


Spoiled Brat

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Horror, M/M, Power Play, Slow Build, yandere!Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi Ackerman has always aspired to be a writer. Day in and day out, the thought of writing a perfect piece was always on his mind. Many readers say that an author's tragedy is their finest inspiration, and when Levi meets the ecstatic and persuasive Eren Jaeger, that's exactly what he will get. Tragedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoiled Brat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone! Welcome to my first chapter! I am absolutely in love with this ship and I've decided to give it a shot with writing a story for them. Criticism is always appreciated and I would love the feed back! Thank you! 
> 
> My Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/astrodivinity

Green.

It's such a simple color. It's the type of color that is only seen as magnificent by a starving artist--grasping onto their last blot of acrylic paint. Yet in a way, there's a fire to a person who has green in their eyes; they have a type of edge to them that no one else has. "Hey," you can almost hear them say, "I'm a fucking person, too." Their hands grasped onto your shirt collar, almost looking down at you.

I sat at my desk and—not accidentally—procrastinated my writing. I flicked my pen across a scrap piece of paper I found and tried to make out a poorly drawn eye. I'm not an artist, that's a fact. My lines seemed rushed and bushy while the drawn pupils looked at me in an almost blank way. They seemed dead. I averted my eyes.

I crumpled up the defaced paper and threw it in the trash. I hated eyes. My mother always told me they were a gateway to a man's soul. I could never gather up the courage to look someone in the eye when I was smaller. It seemed too intimate for me to bluntly do something like that to someone I barely knew.

Drawing was the only loophole.

I had always imagined these big, emerald eyes. They seemed feminine, but full of masculinity at the same time. I was never able to imagine the face around those soft eyes, but I imagined it to be even more delicate.

I slumped back in my chair and looked at the time. Ugh, it was late. My lower stomach started to growl and I grimaced. I hadn't eaten anything since that morning and I could already feel my insides caving in. I rubbed my face and felt the puffy lines under my eyes. I was living proof that insomnia's a bitch—wonderful.

Dicking around and having nothing else to do, I grabbed my phone and looked at my notifications.

Mikasa: Meet me at Rose's. I have something to tell you. (Sent 5 mins. Ago)

I sighed in irritation. My payday wasn't until tomorrow and I had spent my last penny on rent. Mikasa was always loaded, being a personal trainer for some millionaire. Every night she had warm food on the table; dating that police officer and all—Jean, was it? I couldn't just ask my younger cousin to buy me dinner. That would be mortifying

. I looked over at my empty fridge.

Well...

You: I'll be there soon (Sent just now)

I popped my back for a moment then grabbed my keys. I walked over to the closet mirror and fixed my hair and tried to hesitantly smile. "Levi, you sexy beast," I muttered. A moment later I cringed. Those online self-esteem courses did not work, as far as I could tell.

~~~~

"Are you serious right now?"

Mikasa sat in front of me with a cinnamon mocha-whatever in her hands; tapped her fingers along the wooden table and tried her best to smile at me. I rubbed my temples in aggravation, trying with all my might to hold down the thought of shanking my one and only cousin. Even though her smile didn't falter, I could see the hint of panic in her eyes.

"So," I began, "You set me up to meet a guy."

She took a sip of her coffee. "Yes."

I took a bite of my sandwich, trying to calm my nerves. "And this guy..." I picked at my fingernails, "How old is he?"

"Eighteen."

I nearly hit the table with my knee. The boy was eight years younger. Trying to maintain my posture, I clasped my hands together. "Oh? That's nice." I could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of her. She knew that she'd tried this multiple times—but she also knew that it had FAILED multiple times. I calmly took a sip of my tea, hoping my complexion looked unfazed.

"Well," I mused, "Thanks for dinner."

Before I could even stand, she grasped my wrist in an almost death-clutched way. "Wait, Levi." She seemed almost desperate, and it was in a way that worried me to an extent. There was a glint in her eye; it was a glint that I couldn't find the meaning of.

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you always have an obsession over my relationships?"

Mikasa sighed and took another sip of her coffee. "You're nearly twenty-six and all you do is writing." She tapped her finger against the lid of her cup. "You know what they say, right? 'You die a little bit every time you finish a book'? Damn, Levi! You're a prime example of that!"

I stared at her for a long moment.

"Am I really?"

Thinking about it, I couldn't remember the last time I went out somewhere, of course with the exception of mundane errands. I had always thought that writing until 3 A.M. and sleeping for two hours was normal for an author. It was the worry in Mikasa's eyes that really got to me—as if I looked like a man on the verge of death.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I glared at Mikasa and took a sip of my tea, hoping she got the message.

"You owe me."

Mikasa let out a sigh of relief. "Good. This guy is my client's son. His name's Eren Jaeger and I set you two up to meet at that new Italian place tomorrow at eight." Mikasa gave me another look. "Be nice."

Standing up, I went to hug her and say our goodbyes. "Say 'Hi' to Jean for me," I said as I walked towards the door.

Leaving the café, I watched the snow slowly fall to the ground. I kicked a small heap of snow and continued on my way.

Tomorrow was not going to be fun.


End file.
